


The Consequences of Speed and Identity

by orphan_account



Category: Ghost - Mystery Skulls (Music Video), Mystery Skulls (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2632448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only he was fast enough. Maybe none of this would’ve happened. (Or not all guilt is exclusive)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Consequences of Speed and Identity

He gets there too late, he hesitates too long. He watches one of his friends get pushed off a cliff and is forced to bite the other’s arm off in an attempt to save him from a fate almost worse. The limb is green in his mouth but thankfully still, tasting of spoiled meat. He watches as the green fades from Arthur’s eyes only for tears to replace them. The boy, for he is young compared to his own years, stares entranced at Lewis’ mangled corpse, not minding the pool of blood gathering where his left arm used to be.

"I didn’t mean to." Arthur whispers. Mystery spits the limb out of his mouth, watches as it falls, falls and lands uselessly at the bottom of the ravine. The green fog dissipates but that doesn’t necessarily mean the spirit is gone.

"Arthur we need to go." Mystery growls. Arthur does not respond, not to his loyal friend’s ability to talk, not at his monstrous form, canines sharpened and dripping with blood. _His blood_.

"I didn’t mean to." Arthur says staring at Lewis’ corpse, his chest impaled by a stalagmite and his eyes opened wide in shock. In betrayal.

Mystery wraps one of his many tails around Arthurs bloodied stump, his fur matting with blood. He presses tight, wrapping it as fully as he can and then the tail glows orange. Orange like the sun and the interior of the Mystery van, like Lewis’ locket that he keeps close to his chest on a golden chain. When Mystery unwraps his tail the cut is clean, dried blood flaking off and the bite marks healed. There’s still dripping blood but the wound is healed as need be.

"We need to find Vivi Arthur." Mystery says, his eyes glowing an eerie red. Arthur stands unseeing, wobbling without the balance both arms provided him. He follows Mystery down, down, down, and it’s like he’s a zombie, like a trauma victim, _like a man possessed._

They find Vivi with a perfect view of Lewis’ death. They find her in tears, hiccuping and in a ball; her glasses lay on the ground in little bits and pieces.

"Vivi, look at me. Look at me and breathe." Mystery commands, his voice slow. He puts a gentle paw on her shoulder and is dismayed when he imprints a red paw mark on her shoulder, staining her sweater. Arthur behind them still looks so lost, staring at Lewis’ mangled body in another view. Lewis’ fingertips reach the ground even though he’s held vertical feets off the ground. There’s a blood trail from his mouth, dripping outward past his ear to fall on the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. And still that expression of betrayal. His work. His fault.

Vivi looks at Mystery slowly, her eyes filled with a purple light before she blinks it away.

"Where are we?"

"Lewis? Lewis was that you?" Mystery asks because it’s possible-

"Lewis, whose Lewis?" Vivi asks and Mystery feels his heart breaks as he understands. Lewis' last wish.

"No one." Mystery says after seconds of silence. He ushers her away, away from the evidence in shades of purple, red and green behind her saying otherwise. He wraps one of his tails after Arthur’s ankle and drags him away, urging faster when the green mist rolls in to consume Lewis’ body.

And after he questions Vivi on her limited memory (She doesn’t know a Lewis. Who is that? Arthur always had a missing arm. Don’t you remember? You were always a talking fox demon) and while Lewis was being outfitted with a prosthetic limb and drowning in guilt Mystery lay, tired and fur still matted with blood replaying how he could have been quicker.

(If only I were quicker. If only I voiced my doubts beforehand. They would’ve listened. They wouldn’t have been weirded out by a talking fox demon. They wouldn’t have been mad. If only I was quicker.)

What of the man who committed the murder and had no choice, no say in mind and body. What of the godly being who could’ve prevented it all together if only he revealed his identity sooner. If only he was quicker.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone for the nice comments and kudos! I'm surprised at how many fanfics I've been able to produce given my previous records, and for a four minute music video too!


End file.
